After you liked the poem,

After I picked you up,

After you were with me again...

The same smiles between us...

The same miles between us...

What is it about this boy? (I thought)

After the phone rang,

After we had less time than we thought,

After I was disappointed,

After I asked you questions

while trying not to imagine your prick...

After not being able to understand

the multiple emotions you stirred...

I tried to push those feelings aside

and I was kissing you.

After you met Vlad,

After you swallowed him whole,

After I stripped us both,

After I didn't have to imagine any more,

After even your asshole (which welcomed me) tasted like soap & sex...

After all of that (and during) I suspected I did not have time to come.

After that I wanted you inside me,

Fucking me,

Making me come...

After that you wanted to fuck me,

You wanted to get me off,

We wanted to come together.

But after the condoms didn't fit,

After tragic circumstances became mostly comic,

After Vlad surrendered,

After watching you come (stroking that beautiful dick),

After getting dressed & driving you to your (not) street

with my cock aching & sticky against my leg,

After all that I was stoned & unspent.

After I returned to the bed where you spattered your chest,

After I undressed,

After the haze overtook me and I dreamed you inside me,

After I fucked myself hard & I came (seeing stars)

crying your name though you couldn't hear me...

After I showered & put away my toys...

After all of that I began to understand.

I was so fucking jealous of you.

I didn't recognize the emotion, because it was completely unexpected,

and completely out of character, especially during such a moment.

The thought crippled me.

I cried.

I spoke to friends, who it turned out, felt exactly the same way.

Which was good...

because misery loves company.

But I'm over feeling miserable.

After the moment ended and I could see what was inside me,

I reached out...I reached even deeper inside me and found something better.

I know you probably won't understand this.

I wasn't jealous that you're going away...

I wasn't jealous of your destination or your mode of travel...

I was just a bit jealous that you're passionately moving towards something -

I was jealous of that focus; that drive...

which is an experience that I haven't had access to in a long while.

But I'm not that jealous anymore.

Changes have been made since those David Moments assailed me.

The changes are scary, but when aren't they?

The changes are exciting...

These kinds of changes are something that are only possible

after the right moment passes.

The changes, to some degree,

were inspired by you.

So I thank you.

And I wish you well.

And perhaps we can be friends as the moments continue onward (passionately).

Perhaps we'll lose touch.

Perhaps we won't see each other again.

Perhaps

(and I really hope this is the one that takes)

After all of these confessions,

You'll find some real free time,

I'll come pick you up...

Bring you back to my room...

We'll undress each other...

Kissing...

Licking...

You'll kiss my neck (I love that)

We'll taste each other...

Eat each other... (not in a scary cannibal way)

And when I can't stand it anymore I'll suit you up (in just your size),

And after all of those moments have ended...

You'll fuck me.

And everything will be sex.

Until those moments end...

And then the talking can continue after.

- For David -

I didn't write about 'every detail';

just the important ones.